Hic Sunt Dracones
by PureWhiteRabbit
Summary: Loki/Darcy - Darcy decides to try to figure out the mysterious mischief god with the dark past.  Unfortunately for her, in the process of purging him of the hate that has consumed him, she'll have to fight off his metaphorical dragons.
1. Rooftops

(Author's Note: Hi there! I hope you enjoy, and I'd just like to say I do NOT own any Marvel characters at all….no matter how much I wish I did.)

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><p>A touch.<p>

That's all it started out with.

Loki, god of mischief leaned his head against the wall of the room SHIELD was currently holding him in. After letting go of Odin's spear, Earth was the last place he was hoping to fall. If anything, he was hoping for death. The memory of the air being sucked from his very lungs as he entered the black, cold void entered his mind and he closed his eyes to push it back.

He was sitting on a bed, not a very comfortable one, but it served its purpose. The room was tiny and stark white and clinical. He wished he could phase through the sickeningly white walls but he was still weak from his fall. He was unsure how long it would take him to gain his powers back at this rate, but for the moment he was mortal. He ran a hand through his raven hair and sighed in exasperation. Green eyes lingered across the small desk and uncomfortable chair that stood a few feet from him.

Death would have been a release, he thought. He was a failure. His plan was ruined and there was no way he would ever be forgiven in Asgard. He looked down at his small wrists wondering how difficult it would be to take his own life in his current human form. Not very, he decided, running his thumb over his opposite wrist and feeling the tendons moving beneath his flesh. He considered the possibility for a moment before deciding that it would be unwise at the moment. SHIELD agents would only haul him to the hospital before patching him up and putting him in an even less enjoyable room.

With no books.

The books lining a small bookcase were his only companions at the moment, and, as dull as they might seem by Earthen standards, Loki found them fascinating. He had recently been perusing the hodgepodge of literature and to his delight found an author that seemed to embody the dignified prose he so enjoyed: Shakespeare. And so his long and quiet hours were spent reading for the most part and desperately attempting to engulf himself in any world except this one.

Finally he leaned his head back against the wall with a thud and knit his eyebrows together. He was miserable. There was a pain in his torso that prevented his breathing from being even and caused tears to well up in the corners of his eyes. It was probably the three still-mending fractured ribs he had received from his fall, but to him it felt as if his very soul was cracking and breaking into tiny silver pieces in his body. All his life he had been second to Thor. Just when he thought death was something he could at least beat his "golden brother" at, Loki came to the realization that he wasn't even going to be able to do that right. Wonderful.

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><p>Darcy Lewis was bored. Very bored. She stared at her computer in the work room SHIELD had set up Jane's lab in and attempted to balance a pencil on her upper lip. Needless to say, there wasn't much to do. The political science major sighed, leaning back in the spinning chair and wheeling it around in a quick circle, giving her a sickeningly cyclonic view of the ceiling tiles she had already counted three times. One hundred and thirty seven. Well, the second time she had gotten one hundred and thirty-six, so she counted once more to be sure.<p>

Once the chair (and the world) had stopped spinning, she let her forehead rest against her desk with a thud. She wished she had her ipod. Those damn agents had released all of Jane's work, but had they given a second thought to Darcy's precious mp3 player? Nooooo.

Her mind wandered to the days before, when they had camped out in the desert for days awaiting Thor's return after the Destroyer incident. Jane had had her eyes fixed on the sky every moment that Erik wasn't harassing her to get something to eat or go to sleep. When the aurora appeared again, Jane had taken off in the van with a squeal of delight, Darcy in tow as her faithful intern. The astrophysicist had exited the vehicle with a cry of, "THOR!" before being cut off by the startling realization that the man laying bloody and broken in the dusty night was most certainly not her god of thunder.

Darcy stared off at the wall as she remember the man's pale flesh contrasting with the crimson red of blood and deep raven of his mussy locks. He wore Asgardian armor bearing the seal of the mischief god himself in old Norse. Jane had quickly realized this was the traitorous brother that Thor had spoken of and her face quickly contorted into a twist of disgust and disappointment. Darcy, on the other hand, hovered over him and examined him from his sharp nose to his sunken eyes and high cheekbones. He was certainly not as muscular as the first Asgardian to fall to earth, but this one had a certain haunting appearance that she would find invading her mind like a parasite. Darcy had gasped as for a moment his vivid green eyes fluttered open and landed on her. His lips trembled in pain before he succumbed once more to unconsciousness.

Naturally, SHIELD had taken an interest in the man who had sicced the Destroyer armor on them and the government organization proceeded to repair him as best as they could, locking him away for questioning and examining. She had only glanced at him in the days that followed, occasionally seeing him through the crack of his door as agents brought him food and water. He had sad eyes. Indefinably lonely and deep as the night sky. She almost thanked Jane for sending her back to the headquarters alone to keep track of him in case he gave out any important information on Thor's whereabouts while Erik and Jane scoured the desert.

Darcy stood up suddenly, finally deciding she had an idea that might cure her boredom.

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><p>Loki had fallen asleep leaning against the wall, his mind wandering from reality to nightmares in a semi-lucid state of haze. His breathing was quiet, almost as silent as a cadaver as his chest rose and fell lightly. The slow cracking of his door didn't seem to wake him as the spectacled brunette crept in. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get the SHIELD agents to allow her access to the mischief god, but they finally decided that human contact might do him good as long as it was closely monitored. Darcy looked over at him, noticing he was asleep and made the snap decision not to wake him. Instead she took care and patience in closing the door with as little sound as possible before slipping into the empty chair that faced his bed. She looked him dead in the face, her hands clasped together as she leaned forward in the chair and rested her elbows on her knees. Her rectangular rimmed glasses had slipped down her nose and she pushed them back up with a huff.<p>

He was so pale...and she could barely tell he was breathing. Was he breathing? Oh God, was he dead? Darcy's mind ran at a thousand miles a minute as she watched him. She leaned closer, extending her fingers forward to gently touch his hand. As soon as her fingertips made contact with his icy knuckles, his eyes flew open and his other hand struck out like a cobra to grip her wrist. The woman screamed, jerking back in surprise and toppling the chair backwards and onto the floor. Her skull came in contact with the tile with a loud "CRACK", but still the god did not release her wrist.

"Ooow! Hey, man! What's your problem?" she said, not quite angry as much as annoyed. Her free hand went to the back of her head. No blood. Good. Loki continued to stare her down, now standing hunched over her like a lion on an antelope.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed.

"I was just checking on you! Damn!" She wriggled free of the confines of the folding chair and attempted to right herself with much difficulty due to the person currently latched to her arm. "Would you help me up?" It sounded more like a demand than a question. Loki looked off to a wall for a moment as if considering his options before pulling her up to a standing position and releasing her wrist.

"Why?" he question, retreating away from her and glaring at her with those intense eyes. If looks could kill, she'd be stone dead. She shrugged.

"I was bored." He cocked a dark eyebrow at her and she acquiesced. "And I was worried about you. I mean, holy crap, that was a bit more than falling out of a tree or something. You fell from another _dimension_! You're lucky to be alive." He snorted at this, looking away from her. An awkward silence soon fell upon the room as the two tried desperately to fixate themselves on the thin cracks of the wall. "I fell off a roof once."

"Really," said Loki, voice laced with sarcasm. "Do tell."

Apparently sarcasm was as foreign a language to her as ancient Greek. "Well I was nine and my cousin Richard wanted to play mountain climbers, so we climbed onto the roof and tried to scale the chimney, but a stumbled and fell off." The girl had awkwardly recounted her tale in what seemed to Loki to be a singular breath. He stared at her for a moment wondering if the petite, mousy girl was stark raving mad. He felt a hint of amusement well up in the pit of his stomach, but swiftly stifled it and kept his stoic composure unblinkingly. Darcy stared at him, desperately wishing for a reaction just to break the utter silence that had filled the room. She suddenly felt the urge to crawl under the desk just to escape the penetrating gaze.

Her story appeared to have had little affect of the master of lies and she shifted her feet to give her something to focus on. "Uuhhh...yeah...sooooo...I think...I'll just...go." Darcy awkwardly punctuated her speech with small pointing gestures towards the door before turning and tripping over her own feet. She fumbling for the doorknob and exiting the room with as much dignity as she could muster after the deafening silence and retreated stiffly back to her computer.

Loki felt the corners of his lips turn up slightly. Maybe this could be interesting.


	2. Mistake

(Author's Note: Hi there! I hope you enjoy, and I'd just like to say I do NOT own any Marvel characters at all….no matter how much I wish I did.)

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><p>The next day had gone by slowly. Darcy was busy flipping between weather patterns to report irregularities to Jane and desperately trying to catch up on writing her blog. Of course, in her recent posts she had been noticing slight changes in her own writings, making them slightly vague and removing any and all mentions, no matter how small or insignificant, of what had occurred lately. She rolled her eyes and blamed SHIELD for watching her every move before adjusting her glasses and returning her focus to the screen.<p>

So far there had been no odd meteorological or astronomical reports since the day Loki had "landed". The woman stretched out in her chair and took a sip of the all-too-bitter coffee she had managed to scrape up in the tiny kitchen. She winced slightly as the contents of the mug slid down her throat. She suddenly froze hearing two of the agents speaking in the hallway just outside the makeshift lab. Straining her ears, she could just make out broken bits of speech.

"Yeah...won't eat...getting sick..."

Darcy leaned back, pursing her lips and looking down at the keyboard. It didn't take much guesswork to work out who they were discussing. She looked from her computer to her car keys laying on the wood-decal particle board desk. Computer. Keys. Computer. Keys. Sighing, Darcy snatched up her keys with a jangling of keychains and stomped out of the room.

_Damn him for making me care, _she thought. _Oh well. I needed an excuse to get better coffee anyway._

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><p>An hour long trip to town and back later, the small woman was quickly shoving a paper back into her canvas messenger bag and swiftly dodging the many agents in the hallway. She took a swig of her freshly bought coffee as she approached the familiar door. She was going to need as much caffeine-induced help as she could get to tackle this guy.<p>

In one swift motion, Darcy swung open the door, snatched the paper bag up, and tossed it at the individual sitting on the bed. Loki fumbled for the bag, taken off guard and dropping his book in the process. "There you go, dude. Enjoy," she said, attempting to exit the room as quickly as possible to avoid any more uneasy silences. Just before she could slip completely from the room, she heard him call out, "What is it?" She turned to see him pinching the top of the bag open as if trying to make as little contact with the strange gift as possible. His face was contorted into a mixture of confusion and a hint of revulsion.

"Fast food. The life blood of America," she said, turning in the door to watch his reaction. He tentatively sniffed the bag, making a sort of face.

"This is edible?" he said picking out one of the tinfoil wrapped objects.

"Better than the crap they serve at the canteen." Loki looked apprehensive at first, but soon unwrapped the sandwich and took a small bite of it. He appeared pensive at first before taking another small bite. Darcy grinned in triumph. "You like it?"

"It is...not terrible," said the Asgardian in between mouthfuls. Score one for the Darce-meister. She nodded to him, still smiling widely before turning to leave the room.

"I guess I'll leave you to eat then."

"The roof."

"I'm sorry, what?" Darcy turned peeking her head back in the cold room.

"The roof," he repeated. "What happened when you fell off?" She leaned her head on the doorframe, glancing up at the ceiling in thought.

"Well, I hit the ground," she said. Loki glared at her as if trying to burn the words, _Well, duh_ into her forehead. She rolled her eyes before continuing her story. "Richard went to find my dad since it was his house. Dad rushed me to the hospital, but I had only fractured my arm." She rolled up her sleeve, turning her outer arm and back hand to face him and pointed out the small, shiny circular scars that marred her wrist and just below her elbow. "Had to have pins put in to keep the bone straight." He took the liberty of assuming they were not sewing pins.

Darcy looked up, watching his face as he intently examined the discolored flesh from afar. She watched as the icy green eyes darted from mark to mark with clinical precision. A sudden pang hit her as a thought struck her that she had never really considered before. "How badly were you hurt?" she asked, voice small and almost comforting. The reason why this thought had not chosen to flit across her scattered mind before was because of the fact that she knew he was a _god_. The title carried such weight in her realm, being reserved for omniscient and ever-powerful beings that watched humans scamper about for fun. And yet...this was different. Both Loki and Thor, while powerful, could still be injured. Their bones could be snapped and their bodies could be broken just like a mortal's, though she was sure it would take a quite a bit more force.

Loki's head snapped up at the question, examining her face for the motives behind her inquiry. Was she looking for a weakness? A vulnerability to exploit while he was powerless? No, that didn't seem to be it. She looked genuinely concerned as she rolled her sleeve back down to cover her tarnished skin. He looked away.

"Three broken ribs, two fractures, a minor concussion-" _And a partridge in a pear tree,_ he remembered Agent Coulson adding with mirth. Darcy made an exaggerated wincing sound.

"Ouch, dude. That must've hurt." He shrugged.

"Most of it has been healed." _With the last of my remaining magic,_ he thought, but did not say due to his wariness. He had finished eating and had set the paper bag down next to his bed. Darcy bent over, taking it and stuffing it back into her canvas bag.

_Remove all evidence,_ she thought wryly. "That's good," she said conversationally as she made sure the bag was not in sight. Not that it would particularly matter. SHIELD could easily look at the security camera footage to see that she was smuggling in food. She chuckled. "Thor must've been lucky. He didn't have a scratch on him when he touched down. Not even when Jane hit him with the van."

Loki's eyes flashed with rage at the mention of his brother. His perfect brother who was just _so damn __**wonderful**_ in the eyes of these mortals. Oh how he was always compared to that muscle-bound dolt even in the human realm. _We are not brothers,_ he corrected himself. _Never brothers. _His teeth grit together and his placid composure was slowly rapidly slipping away.

"Get out," Loki hissed, eyes downcast in shadows and mouth curved into a frown of pure contempt.

"Wait, wha-"

"GET OUT!" bellowed the man, and in a flash he was in a standing position, arm drawn back with the book he had previously dropped in hand. A cold wave of fear hit the woman as she ducked behind the door, shutting it behind her just as a loud "THUMP" rang through the wood. Darcy backed up to the opposite wall, frightened eyes locked on the door as if he would tear through it and leap at her like a wolf on a rabbit. All was silent, however. She took a deep, shuddering breath, not realizing she had been holding it. Darcy was shaking as she let herself slide down the wall, the image of the burning verdigris eyes remained in her memory like sharp needles on her skin.

She had made a mistake.


	3. Offering

(Author's Note: Wow! Thank you for all the kind reviews ^^ I apologize for this chapter being a bit short, but things will get more interesting in the next few chapters. Once again, I own no Marvel characters)

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><p>It had been three days since the incident and Darcy had been avoiding the mischief god like the plague. She had begun purposefully taking the long route around the building instead of passing by his room. When it was absolutely necessary she would close her eyes and hurry past like a child afraid of the monster in the closet.<p>

Agent Coulson had been throwing her sideways glances as if silently asking if she was okay. The college student dismissed them easily and attempted to work diligently at her task. Once or twice, one of the agents would bring up the subject of Loki and she would freeze and answer them curtly, not wishing to speak of him.

Now it was the end of the day and Darcy had driven the long, empty road home with the stereo blaring to try to drown out her thoughts. The woman entered her tiny apartment and had immediately flopped onto the couch like a dead fish. She groaned into the rather hideous pattern of the upholstery before wiggling her spine until she was on her back. She sighed up at the constellations of water stains. One question had been running through her mind on repeat for the past several days.

_What did I do wrong?_

She had only mentioned his brother after all. Darcy knew that he didn't particularly care for his sibling, but to resort to book throwing was just plan rude. She began wondering what had occurred between them to cause such a rift. Surely it hadn't always have been like this. _What happened in Asgard?_ she wondered, picturing Thor and his Agardians companions being ripped from this dimension by the bifrost.

The mere mention of his brother seemed to have sent him into an uncontrollable tantrum. She wondered how someone could harbor so much animosity against a person, especially their own kin.

Darcy considered reaching lazily for the television remote, but decided that she wouldn't be able to focus on it anyway. Not even her favorite late-night B-movies could cheer her up. After deciding she had moped long enough, she swung her legs up and lifted herself from the sunken in couch. Coffee might make it better.

Her old coffee maker had served her well over the years and she patted it silently like a pet. "You wouldn't throw things at me," she said, smiling slightly. With the precision of a neurosurgeon, Darcy had prepared the machine for its purpose. Just as the small droplets of water began filtering down into the pot, she heard her cell phone's sharp ring permeate the air. She withdrew it from her pocket, lifting it to her ear and greeting the person on the other end, "Hello?"

_"Hey it's Jane."_

"Oh hey." This was the last thing Darcy needed today.

_"I was just wondering what you were doing." _

Darcy paused, analyzing the question. She looked back at the coffee pot.

"Percolating," she replied flippantly. There was a moment of silence as Jane slowly realized what she meant. Darcy smiled.

_"Yes, well, anyway. I just wanted to check up on you and make sure you were okay." _

Confusion passed across her face and she laid a hand on the counter. "What's up with the sudden concern?"

_"Coulson told me about what happened with Loki."_

_Oh, God..._ "Really, it was nothing, Jane," she said with a sigh. She would exact revenge on Coulson later.

_"He didn't hurt you did he?"_

"What? No, he didn't hurt me! Geeze! I can take care of myself." Jane let out a sound of exasperation on the other end of the line.

_"I just don't want you to get hurt. You understand, Darce?"_

"Yeah..." she said simply, eyes downcast to the floor. "Look, you go back to looking for your 'Prince Charming'. I have coffee calling me."

_"Alright...Talk to you soon. And Darcy? Be careful..."_

"Yeah, yeah. Later." She tossed her phone onto the counter and savoring the scent of her long-time comfort. As she waited patiently, those cool green eyes appeared again in her thoughts.

"Ugh...I must have really upset the guy," she said, resting her head in her hands. "What could I do to make this better..." Darcy glanced about the room for an idea before finally landing on her bookshelf. A peace offering! He liked reading, right? I mean, he'd been reading whenever she had come into the room.

Bouncing over to the crammed bookcase, her fingers danced over their spines before finally landing on a well-used copy of her favorite book. _I hope this works, _she thought, setting it next to her cell phone and settling in to a nice cup of coffee. _If it doesn't, I'm screwed._

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><p>It was almost unbearably early in the morning when Loki Laufeyson gracefully walked down the hallway, agents escorting him on either side. His hair was wet and slicked back and his skin was cool with leftover moisture from the shower he had just taken. As he reached the door to his room, one of the agents nodded for him to go ahead. He entered the room, shutting the door behind him and once again leaving himself alone. He turned to make his way back to his bed when something caught his eye. Something that hadn't been there before.<p>

It was a book, ragged and tinged a slight yellow from use. Loki ran his lithe fingers over the cover that displayed the words "HITCHHIKER'S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY" in bold print. Curiously, he peeled back the cover to find a small, pale blue sticky note obscuring the title page. On it were two hastily written words.

_My bad._


	4. Peace

(Author's Note: Oooonce again, Marvel is not owned by me nor are any of thier characters. Sadly DX)

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><p>For the next few days, Darcy still strayed away from the door partly for fear of his reaction and partly because she knew he was the type that needed space to think. However, she would inconspicuously cast glances at the monitor for his room when passing the security center. He was usually reading one book or another, but each time the monitor displayed the ebony-haired man sitting at the desk reading the familiar novel, a small swell of warmth would build in her.<p>

This particular day, she had stopped by the wall of display screens as usual to her routine. This time was different though. Once again, Loki was reading the ragged book, his long fingers turning each page with utmost care. And then there it was.

He was...laughing?

Darcy had to bend in closer to see, but there it was: a small smile quickly hidden as his shoulders shook for just a split second. The girl felt a sort of bright burst of triumph overcome her and a grin spread out across her face. Now her eyes were locked to the screen, not wanting to miss another rare moment like this should it come. "Miss Lewis?"

The voice made her jump and spin around. Only then did she realize that she had been hovering over the control panel like a hawk, only inches away from his screen. A flush of embarrassment passed over her face as she came face to face with a very curious looking Agent Coulson. "Uh, um...hi?" Coulson smirked that odd little knowing expression that always tended to make Darcy a little nervous.

"Miss Lewis, don't you have work you're supposed to be doing?" The obviously flustered woman nodded and walked quickly away from the control center, trying not to make eye contact with him. Returning to her desk, she eyes the stack of manila folders she was supposed to be sorting with a tired sigh.

Days and days worth of weather patterns were to be organized and filed away properly. Jane had dropped them off the day before and Darcy had been doing her best to procrastinate doing them until the last second. She absent-mindedly pulled at her loose sweater before flipping through the files and beginning her work. It was going to be an exceedingly dull day, but at least the black and white image of the small laugh, _progress _she calls it, would stick with her.

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><p>Loki laid with his head against his rather flat pillow, hands clasped against his chest and book laying beside him. He was not asleep. Instead, he was thinking. It was an odd sort of feeling he had been having lately. It was not the sharp pain he had known so well. Instead, this was a soft thrum of something that felt like a mixture of dread and the cool prick of sadness.<p>

He frowned.

This was ridiculous. It was certainly not a familiar feeling for him and he did not like it. Such an emotion should not be present in his mind. Opening his brilliantly frosty eyes, he rolled on his side to stare at the book almost angrily. He knew what had caused it and he groaned to think of its solution. To think, the mischief god himself was feeling _regret._ Regret, of all things!

Rarely in his life did he ever truly regret his actions. After all, he had gained quick the reputation as a trickster and remorse just didn't quite fit in with the title. Regret wasn't even the feeling he had experienced after his brother had finally beaten him and he had been cast (by his own hand, mind you) from Asgard. It had not been regret. It was simply failure.

How could such a strange person draw out these emotions? A human, by the gods! It just wasn't right.

But...

She was his only company. And she had brought him a meal that was actually edible as well the novel that he was currently glaring at. He hadn't realized until now how much he truly missed simply having someone to speak to. Surely he would go mad alone with his own thoughts. He needed a distraction and the human provided one, even if she could be quite annoying at times.

Loki knew what he had to do, as much as he didn't like it at all. It would be simple to lie. Humans were simple-minded and weak in their ability to see through his subtle changes of the truth. It was a shame that lying wouldn't help him get that awful feeling out of his body.

And suddenly he realized something that he hadn't before.

He didn't know her name.

Loki had hear the men of SHIELD occasionally refer to the geek-y little woman as "Miss Lewis," but had never asked about her first name. The down turned curve in his mouth only deepened. He was usually so thorough in his gathering of information that it disturbed him slightly that he could overlook such a detail. He took a deep breath and set to inclined himself to rectify this situation.

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><p>It was pitch black outside when Darcy finally hefted a stack of folders into her arms awkwardly and began making her trek down the hallway to the filing cabinets. It had been a mind-numbing task, but she relished the fact that she was through and Jane would get off her back. She her gait was uneven and slow as she tried to balance the stack of treacherously wobbling papers.<p>

She had barely noticed she had come to _the_ door, when suddenly she heard a small tap. She froze in her spot, eyes turning to the room that she was sure it had come from. Darcy looked around the hall, checking for others before lowering the paperwork to the ground and pressing her ear against the door. She was tentative at first, knuckles only inches from the wood. Finally to plucked up all the courage she could muster and tapped a response.

Then she waited.

The sound of another knock, a mimicking of her own, vibrated through the wood. She gulped a muttered out, "Hello?" It was quiet on the other end for a moment before she heard a soft, refined voice whisper out two words.

"I apologize."

Her breath stuck in her throat for a split second. Well, she certainly hadn't been expecting that. She remained still for a moment before finally making the decision to reach for the doorknob. As the door slowly creaked over, she could hear her inner voice screaming _god of __**lies**_, but for some reason she couldn't turn down the pleasantly hushed voice on the other side.

Darcy looked up to see the man retreated from the entrance to make room for her, eyes locked on hers. There was silent for a moment before Darcy smiled. "It's okay." He nodded in response, keeping his cool persona though she could see just a hint of nervousness somewhere deep inside of him as if he didn't really know what to do.

She walked around him, keeping control of the situation before flopping down on his bed and sitting Indian style on it. He stared at her confusedly, but slowly walked over and joined her when she patted the area on the bed beside her.

The woman placed her hands on her knees and rocked herself back, sighing and looking at the wall. "It's no big deal, dude," she finally said, glancing over at him. For the first time he looked more awkward and disoriented than she did.

"I should not have lost my temper. It is not proper for me-" His head jerked toward her as she snorted out a short chuckle.

"Trust me, I'm the one person who couldn't care less about being proper," laughed out the brunette, leaning back to nearly against the wall before returning to her original position.

"But still, I would like to extend my apologies." He spoke shortly, almost as if this was his practiced, princely speech. She held up a hand signaling him to stop.

"Really. Seriously. I'm fine." She smiled up at him warmly and he looked almost shocked to see someone react this way. He had almost never been the one to receive acceptance of any kind and this sort of trust was new to him. Finally he nodded in relief and laid his hand on the book that had been sitting on the floor beside him.

"I assume this is yours?" he said, displaying it to her. She broken in to a grin.

"Oh yeah! Douglass Adams. He's one of my favorites," said the girl, laying a finger on the author's name. "Do you like it?"

"Yes, actually," Loki said, looking down at the cover. "I understand that there are more in the series, correct? Would you mind bringing them?" Darcy seemed excited as she grabbed the book he had extended to her.

"Of course! I'll bring the second one tomorrow." She yawned, drawing her free hand up to cover her mouth. "Ugh, I'm beat. Jane had me going through all of her weather junk today."

"Perhaps you should return home and rest. It is getting late." She blinked twice before realizing what time of night it was.

"Crap! I'd better get on the road!" She vaulted up, taking the book with her and opening the door. She turned in the doorframe, looking back at the bewildered man. "Oh, and no more, uh." She pantomimed hurling the book she was carrying across the room before placing her empty hand on it with a smack. "If you do," she grinned widely, "I'll tase your ass."

Loki allowed a smirk to cross his face as she turned and left, grinning like a Cheshire cat. Vaguely, he wondered how long it would take her to find the small sheet of paper tucked into the novel that read simply, "Thank you."


	5. Dreamer

(Author's Note: Whoooo slow updating here XD Sorry, school has been getting in the way, BUT I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN. Character are owned by Marvel and stuff. Not me.)

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><p>She had begun spending whatever downtime she had in the tiny room, slowly developing a certain trust with the Norse god. This continued for days, slowly turning into a week and the woman seemed happier than ever, that is, until the nightmares started.<p>

The first time it happened, she had woken up in a cold sweat in her dark apartment. Darcy had tried to go back to sleep, but her mind clung to the same terrifying image. It was a person, vague and dangerously thin, with oddly flickering protrusion from their back like branches of luminescent wire. The only thing that was completely clear was the face, its ill-proportioned head beaten and bloody. Its lips had been split and their teeth were exposed even though its mouth was closed. Solid black glossy eyes stared back at her from sunken in sockets.

Darcy had woken with a scream and had fumbled desperately for her lamp. Once her room was flooded with light, she proceeded to shakily remove herself from the twisted cocoon of sheets and padded her way to the kitchen. She had managed to doze for a few minutes at a time on her couch, but was unable to truly return to slumber for the remainder of the night.

This same dream had persisted over the next few days, and the lack of sleep was beginning to severely affect her. She was almost constantly falling asleep at her desk and dark circles with forming under her bloodshot eyes. Despite her desperate attempts to cover it with gratuitous amounts of caffeine and make-up, a certain trickster wasn't exactly blind.

"Miss Lewis, are you quite alright?" he had asked one day when he had found her blankly staring off at the wall instead of actively participating in their usual banter. Her head had snapped around, almost in shock at the noise.

"Hm?"

"I said," he spoke, leaning forward to examine her more closely, "Are you alright?" She looked away and waved her hand in an attempt to quell his worries.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Late nights and stuff. Don't worry about it." Darcy tried to fixate herself on something, anything other than those piercing eyes examining her like a rat for dissection. Anything.

"So have you ever heard of H.P. Lovecraft?"

"Miss Lewis," he said sternly, as if trying to get her to focus.

"He's like this weird sci-fi horror writer from the twenties."

"Miss Lewis."

"His stuff is kinda weird and dark. Not quite my style, but you may like it. Lots of weird monster thingies with-"

"MISS LEWIS." Darcy looked at him, wide-eyed, her arms still locked in their former position (which looked to be some sort of off imitation of tentacles). For a second Darcy was afraid that she was about to get another inanimate object launched at her head, but her fears were calmed when she saw the soft look in his eyes.

"Loki?"

"Miss Lewis, I'm worried about your health. Everyone here knows something is wrong, yet no one sees the extent of it except me." The woman's head hung, her eyes examining the tiled floor before she slowly nodded.

"Yeah...I know..."

"What are you keeping from me?" There was an awkward silence that followed, Loki's gaze never leaving her face even though she was now turned away from him. The were both sitting on the cot, their shoulders leaning against the walls and legs swinging off of the edge, but Darcy now seemed to take up even less room as she almost seemed to withdraw into herself.

"Don't stare at me..." she finally said. He looked at her with confusion for a moment before nodding annoyedly and replying with a short, "Fine." He let his head rest against the wall and stared at the other side of the room.

"I've...been having nightmares..." she finally confessed, her face in her hands. "I know it's stupid and childish, but I just...can't sleep anymore." Loki nodded, still not looking at her.

"I understand. The mind is a delicate thing. It-" he stopped, not able to repress the urge to glance at her when he began to hear soft sobs coming from her direction. "Miss Lewis?" he called softly.

She held up a hand. "Fine...I'm fine. Don't worry." He reassurance wasn't exactly_ reassuring_ seeing how he could see tears running down her cheek from between her fingers. Unfortunately, Loki was anything but the master of comfort. If anything, he was usually the one making people cry. He awkwardly set a hand on her shoulder, not sure what to say.

"Perhaps...it will get better," he offered. She didn't respond, instead only burying her face deeper in her hands. He looked away, suddenly feeling incredibly out of place. They stayed that was for a while, Loki staring off at anything but the weeping girl and Darcy slowly pouring out the pent up breakdown fueled by terror and lack of sleep.

Quite a bit of time had passed and Loki still had not noticed that the soft cries that had filled the room had silenced. Well, that is until he felt a sudden weight fall upon his shoulder. He looked up in surprise to see the woman quietly dozing against his arm, sticky streaks staining her now reddened face. Loki frowned and was about to try to lean her back against the wall when a small voice reached his ears.

"Don't leave..." The trickster inwardly groaned, but bit his lip and attempted to remain perfectly still.

"I won't," he finally replied, looking down at her. Before he could even notice what he was doing, he had tucked a stray strand of messy hair behind her ear. He craned his neck down close to her and whispered, "What is your name?"

At first he thought she hadn't heard him and had gone back to sleep, but he was pleasantly surprised to hear a hoarse voice reply, "Darcy..."


End file.
